


Amidst Stars

by mangochi



Category: Almost Human, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, crossovers, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangochi/pseuds/mangochi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a scientific anomaly, Scotty tells him, with the breathless enthusiasm of a kid at a zoo for the first time, a one-in-ten-million chance of two adjacent universes curving together at the precise tangent point, and Jim abruptly loses track of the conversation when he looks up at the platform and sees Bones standing there.</p><p>Except it’s not Bones, not really. This man is a stranger with wary eyes and a half-eaten donut clutched in one hand, but when he stumbles around in lingering shock…….well, it seems like Bones’ ass is a universal constant, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amidst Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory Star Trek/ Almost Human Crossover

It’s a scientific anomaly, Scotty tells him, with the breathless enthusiasm of a kid at a zoo for the first time, a one-in-ten-million chance of two adjacent universes curving together at the precise tangent point, and Jim abruptly loses track of the conversation when he looks up at the platform and sees Bones standing there.

Except it’s not Bones, not really. This man is a stranger with wary eyes and a half-eaten donut clutched in one hand, but when he stumbles around in lingering shock…….well, it seems like Bones’ ass is a universal constant, after all.

"What the hell-" the man who is and isn’t Bones demands, his eyes wide, and every line of his body screaming TROUBLE as he fumbles for the handgun beneath his arm. Ten phasers are instantly on him, and it’s all Jim can do to fight down the instinct to order everyone to drop arms. It’s their duty, after all, and he doesn’t know the first thing about this man, no matter who he looks like.

"Don’t think he’ll be here long, Captain," Scotty continues, completely unaffected by the commotion around him. There’s a slightly manic gleam in his eyes as he taps at his PADD, bringing up multiple calculations. "Looks like it’s a temporary flux……a little switch-a-roo with the doc and, ah…" He glances at the man, who wrenches his intent gaze from the phasers to lock on Jim and Scotty. "Our guest."

Jim can’t quite bring himself to suppress the thrill that runs through him at that stare. It’s not him, he reminds himself, but fuck, the last time Bones looked at him like that……..

Jim still gets hard at the memory.

"…..should be back within a few hours."

"He’s safe, then," Jim says, just to be certain. Bones must be flipping his shit, stuck in the twenty-first century with nothing but his medical scrubs and the hypo he was clutching in his hand when he suddenly disappeared from medbay six minutes ago.

"As safe as inter-universal travel can be." Scotty shrugs. "I’ll wager he’ll have a fine tale to tell at the end of it."

"Hey," the man says, his hands still up by his head as he glares at the circle of phasers. "A little courtesy goes a long way, where I come from."

"What’s your name?" Jim asks him, and his heart fumbles when the man’s eyes pierce him once more.

"Kennex," the man says, rough and defiant. "John Kennex."

John Kennex takes to his situation surprisingly well, once they get him the point where he doesn’t grab for his gun at every little noise. Jim can tell how much Spock wants to get his hands on the weapon, if only to dissect it and proclaim it utterly obsolete by Vulcan standards.

"I suggest relocating Mr. Kennex to the brig in the meantime, Captain," Spock offers, eyeing John’s holsters meaningfully. "Regardless of his existence as Dr. McCoy’s counterpart, we know nothing of this persona’s intentions-"

"Don’t be rude, Spock. Mr. Kennex is our guest," Jim says reproachfully. "How d’you think Bones would feel, us treating his….ah, well, himself like this?"

“He’d probably approve of it, if he’s got any sense at all,” John grumbles. “What’s with your ears?” he addresses Spock. “You some kind of elf?”

Jim has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at the look on Spock’s face. Another constant, it appears, is the ability to effortlessly piss off his first officer.

"Perhaps the airlock, Captain," Spock suggests, and Jim steps in hastily before things can plummet to a worse degree.

"My quarters should be fine, don’t you think?"

Spock’s left eyebrow twitches downwards- never a good sign- and Jim hurries on to explain, “It’s the most secure location other than the brig, and I don’t know, something tells me you won’t like him any better on the bridge.”

"No," come two simultaneous responses, followed by a familiar round of glaring that fascinates Jim.

Finally, they manage to come to a tentative agreement: Kennex would stay in the captain’s quarters until…..well, Scotty scratches his head here and admits that he’s not certain what’ll happen once the two universes are finished having their fun. In any case, the doors will be guarded by a full security detail, and John’s forced to hand over his weapons before he’s escorted away from the transporter room.

"I’ll want these back before I leave," he threatens, unbuckling his holsters and dropping them in the hands of a blank-faced guard. "You hear?"

"He’s all yours, Cap," Scotty says cheerfully, and Jim looks over at the glowering Kennex.

_If only._

They’re marched down the corridors by a company of five guards, Jim leading the way and feeling Kennex’s burning gaze between his shoulders with every step. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little intrigued by this other Bones, this harder, rougher man with his ass-hugging jeans and scarred hands.

He wonders what his name would sound like in John's voice, if it would be any different or too much the same.

"So……I’m stuck here," Bones- no, John- says after the guards leave, scuffing his foot at the gleaming silver floor speculatively. "Y’know, the last thing I expected out of this case was to see goddamn aliens."

Jim grins despite himself at the familiar surly tone and flings himself into a low chair, propping his elbows up on the armrests and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Case? You’re not a doctor?”

"God, no," John snorts immediately. "I’m a cop." He says it with a sort of brazen pride,

It takes Jim a moment to contemplate a world where Leonard McCoy slings guns and badges instead of hypos, and in the span of those scarce seconds, John is moving and inspecting the contents of Jim’s bookshelves with an intent scrutiny.

"Ha." He reaches up and takes down a glass bottle, tilting it carefully in the light to peer at the ship suspended within. "I used to have one of these as a kid."

"Yeah?" Jim leans back in his chair, settling himself more comfortably as he watches John set the bottle back on its stand. "That was a present," he says. From Bones, on their last shore leave to Earth.

 _"Do you like it?" he whispers against Jim’s ear, his weight heavy and warm on Jim’s back. "Had it made special for you."_ _  
_

_"Mmm, did you?" Jim turns the bottle over in his fingertips, then gasps when Bones rocks gently against him. "H-Hey."_

"Hey."

Jim jerks his gaze over, seeing that John had seated himself in the chair across from him.

"He's important to you," John suddenly says, impromptu of nothing. Jim blinks, tightening his grip on his chair's armrests involuntarily.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The other me. The one who went to......to my time." John leans forward as he talks, propping his bare forearms on his knees. Jim's eyes flicker down, then straggle up to John's piercing gaze. "He meant something to you, didn't he?"  
  
"'Course he did," Jim says lightly. "He's our CMO. Keeps half of us alive and the other half in line on a daily basis. Sometimes both, if he can manage it."  
  
"You haven't stopped looking at me since I showed up."  
  
"You're from a different universe," Jim points out. "Anyone would stare."  
  
John leans a little closer, and Jim finds himself holding his breath. "I hope you realize that I interrogate suspects for a living," Kennex says quietly, but there's a mild gleam in his eye that belies the seriousness of his words. "You're a damn good liar, kid, but I'm better."  
  
Jim's heart keels wildly to the side, and he resists the urge to grope for his pulse. "That so?" He shifts in his seat, half out of anticipation, half out of the stirrings of a memory brought abruptly to light.  
  
 _Bones in the cabin they rented out last Christmas, snow falling silently outside the frosted windows and his hot mouth burning on the side of Jim's mouth._  
  
 _"You're a damn good liar, kid. Place is even better than you said it'd be_."  
  
"Yeah." John's hands are rougher than Bones', harder with callouses and the grip of a weapon rather than a tricorder, but his fingers grip with the same gentle strength as he cups Jim's chin in his palm and turns his face towards him. "You get this look in your eyes. Kinda like now."  
  
Jim's blood roars dimly in his ears as he stares at John, helpless to glance away. John looks back at him, brow furrowed as if he's trying to regain some long-forgotten memory, remember the beginnings of a half-formed dream.  
  
"Shit," John finally mutters, the corner of his mouth twisting ruefully. "They're the same goddamn color, aren't they?"  
  
And before Jim can ask what the hell he's talking about, John's tugging him forward and scooting to the edge of his seat at the same time and then that familiar mouth is on his in an altogether unfamiliar kiss.  
  
Jim falls into it all the same, his hands flying up to clutch at John's shoulders and his mouth relaxing as John's tongue pushes for entrance. The kiss swiftly bypasses any initial tentativeness, leaving Jim panting excitedly as John finally leaves his mouth to bite his way down Jim's neck.  
  
"Am I......gonna be shot.....for this?" he mumbles in between little licks and nips down to Jim's collarbone.  
  
"God, I hope not," Jim says fervently. He's pressed back in the chair by the force of John's administrations, the other man practically on top of him with his knee on the seat between Jim's legs and his hands tugging impatiently at Jim's shirt.  
  
"Whoa," Jim laughs breathlessly, feeling a seam give as John tugs his command shirt over his head impatiently. "You're going a bit caveman there."  
  
He hears a surprised snort of laughter from his shoulder, and John raises his head to grin down at him bemusedly. He looks better smiling, Jim thinks dazedly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing." John places his hand on Jim's belly, pushing up beneath his undershirt to skim across shuddering skin. "Just sound like a guy I know."  
  
"He sounds smart."  
  
"He is." John's tone goes a bit wistful, and Jim's eyebrow twitches curiously.  
  
"You-"  
  
"Don't worry about it." John shifts his weight, nudging his knees on the outside of Jim's so that he's settled over Jim's lap. This brings their bodies closer together, hips nudging tantalizingly, and Jim hooks an arm around John's waist, pulling him closer.

"Are you....." _Are you sure?_ The words are on the tip of his tongue, but John looks down at him with a flick of his eyebrow that seems to say, _Shut up, idiot_.

"I've only got a few hours here," John tells him, his voice softening slightly around the edges. "Better make the best of it, huh?"

"Yeah," Jim agrees, maybe a little too quickly, but then John's hands are on him again, a quick brush of his thumb across Jim's lips that precedes his mouth.  
  
John kisses like he's on a mission, alternating efficiently between biting at Jim's lips and sliding their tongues together in rough, hot thrusts. It should have been underwhelming in its predictability, but all it did was somehow upset Jim's equilibrium even further. He ends up just sagging back in his chair, groaning faintly as John's stubbled cheek scratches along his.  
  
"God, you taste so good," John whispers against his mouth, his voice slightly hoarse. His hands slide farther up, hot and heavy on Jim's chest, then drop down abruptly to the top of Jim's pants.  
  
It's good, Jim muses, that he doesn't have to think through this now, that all he has to do is gasp and curse and rock into John's hand when the man finally manages to work his pants open. He doesn't have to try hard to pretend that it's Bones touching him, to acknowledge that all this, this is all part of some deep need to know every incarnation of Bones in every lifetime, every conceivable universe in the black unknown.  
  
To hope that maybe somewhere out there, they find each other every time.  
  
"Come on," John mutters low in his throat, rubbing unconsciously against Jim's thigh as he watches his own hand move. "Come on, come on-"  
  
"Shit," Jim growls, feels his muscles clench and flutter helplessly. He tries to spread his knees, to thrust up into that tight grip, but John has him completely pinned down, his other hand fumbling at Jim's face, his thumb hooking into the corner of Jim's mouth.  
  
Jim turns his head and sucks two of John's fingers into his mouth, needing to do something- anything- and John flinches in surprise, his grip loosening briefly. Jim groans in frustration, his teeth scraping a little too roughly along John's index finger, and he hears an answering moan, deep and harsh and altogether too fucking hot.  
  
He doesn't last long after that, though he's impressed with lasting this long already, and he cries out against John's shoulder as he comes in quivering spurts, his breath hitching in his chest and his mind splintering into white as something tears loose in his chest and stomach.  
  
With his eyes closed, he listens to John's heavy breathing, feels the other man struggle to keep himself under control even as his hips jerk against Jim's leg in tiny, insistent ruts. Gotta finish it, comes the dim thought, the instinct to see his partner through to the end, and Jim opens his eyes.  
  
John's face is flushed, the collar of his jacket rumpled and his mouth panting open with every breath. He grunts when Jim reaches for him, his head dropping and his shoulders heaving. "No......don't need to...."  
  
"Shut up," Jim advises, unbuttoning the top of his jeans with a deft flick. "It's my turn."  
  
He's not sure if he's thrilled or dismayed to discover that beneath the pants, John's completely identical to his counterpart, down to the two freckles along the curve of his left hip. Jim yanks the stiff fabric of his pants farther down to halfway down John's thighs, enough for him to see the silver cuff running around his right leg.  
  
"What...?" Jim begins, but John shakes his head dismissively, shuffling closer and clamping his knees around Jim's hips.  
  
"Lost my leg," he says shortly, and Jim gapes at him. "Don't worry about it."  
  
"You lost-"  
  
"Less talking," John suggests, without it being a suggestion at all. "More......the other stuff."  
  
Jim feels his mouth twitch at the sudden awkwardness, then nods seriously. "Yeah. Good idea."  
  
He's not sure who's more surprised at the broken moan when he finally closes his hand around John. John bites down instantly on his lower lip, tilting his hips into Jim's hand.  
  
"More," he grates, his hands coming up to grip the sides of Jim's head. "More."  
  
"Okay," Jim breathes, and he curls a hand around the back of John's neck, pulling him forward to clash in a hard kiss as he speeds up his motions.  
  
John grinds steadily against him, his hands fumbling on Jim's arms, his chest, his shoulders, panting loosely into Jim's mouth as sweat stings against their tongues.  
  
"Look at me," John eventually gasps, his voice cracking, and Jim jerks his eyes upwards, caught off guard.  
  
John's forehead bumps clumsily against his, his own eyes gone glassy and dark as he struggles to hold Jim's gaze.  
  
"Ahh," he groans again, the sound tight and straining. His hips snap into Jim's grip, and Jim feels John's thighs flexing beneath his grip, the muscles trembling.  
  
On impulse, he slides his free hand around John's hips, feeling the skin stick and catch with sweat as he grabs John's ass. John's hips jerk again, in surprise or arousal, Jim's not certain anymore, and he watches as John's eyes flutter shut, then struggle to open again.  
  
"Look....." John chokes out before he's overwhelmed, and Jim squeezes encouragingly with both hands, feels his own breath catch at the resulting shuddering moan.  
  
"I'm looking," he answers, his voice unsteady. "I've got you." _Come for me._  
  
"Fuck!" John's fingers bruise Jim's shoulder as he pushes forward one last time, and he feels hot wetness spill over his knuckles, pulsing and throbbing in his grip. He doesn't look away as John's eyes grow unfocused, looking into him and seeing something else entirely.  
  
"Dorian," he thinks he hears John gasp, his lips barely stirring as he struggles to catch his breath, but he's not certain of anything anymore.  
  
He's still not sure this isn't some sort of crazy, possibly alien-induced dream. An occasional hazard of captaining the Enterprise, apparently.  
  
John sags into him with the final aftershocks of his orgasm, his muscles gone slack and heavy as he presses his face into the side of Jim's neck. Jim just holds on, feeling himself sliding headfirst into exhaustion.  
  
"How long's it been?" he asks quietly.  
  
"Too damn long," John sighs, then turns and kisses Jim's jaw.  "I hope he's okay," he murmurs beneath his ear, and Jim closes his eyes, feeling a pang dig sharp into his chest.  
  
"Yeah," he manages, his fingers curling into the hem of John's jacket. "Me too."

  
.................

  
When he wakes, he's alone.  
  
His pants are on, he notices second. He's clean and tucked away and if it isn't for the slight burn of irritated skin along his jaw and neck, he'd be seriously concerned about the stage of his mental stability.  
  
"John?" he calls out uncertainly, blinking away the last clutches of sleep.  
  
His door beeps, all of the warning that he receives before it promptly slides open. Jim stares, blinks, feels something swell painfully in his chest.  
  
"Hey," Bones says, weary and unshaven and unbelievably there.  
  
"Bones," Jim croaks, and then he's stumbling across the room, his legs soft and undependable. "Bones-" He trips and Bones meets him halfway, like he's always done, and then they're coming together in an unlovely tangle in the middle of the room.  
  
"It's okay," Bones tells him repeatedly, tells them both, his face pressed into Jim's shoulder as Jim grabs at him desperately and breathes him in. "I'm here. Jim, it's me. It's me. God, I missed you-"  
  
"What, all day?" Jim teases weakly, and Bones' hand pauses in his hair.  
  
"Day?"  
  
Jim pauses, disconcerted by Bones' odd tone. "You've been gone all day," he tries again.  
  
"Jim, I've been gone for a week."  
  
Jim pulls away far enough to look at him, shocked. He raises his hand, touches the new shadows beneath Bones' cheekbones, the start of a beard clinging to his jaw. "You......."  
  
"God," Bones mutters, catching Jim's hand in his own and holding him still. "I hate space-time conundrums." He dips his head and drops a fervent kiss onto the palm of Jim's hand, exhaling in a long sigh.  
  
Jim steps back, holding onto Bones' elbows and looking him up and down. "Are you- did they-"  
  
"I'm fine. Get back here." Bones tugs Jim back into his arms, grumbling incoherently about 'goddamn universal convergences.' He kisses Jim's forehead, his cheek, both corners of his mouth before finally pressing an achingly soft kiss to the center. "I missed you, darling," he says again, his voice low.  
  
Jim leans into him, his breath shaky. "I met you," he blurts out. "From the other universe. I......he, ah. We." He doesn't need to say more, and Bones stills for a second before exhaling and knocking their foreheads together.  
  
"He's got good taste," Bones says resignedly. "Should've known I'd jump you somehow or another." His expression takes on a teasing light, eyebrows rising suggestively. "Of course, it's only fair that you make it up to me."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"I want all the details."  
  
"That can be arranged."  
  
"Really, I think the only way is to demonstrate."  
  
"Mmm."  
  
Later- much later, to Jim's delight- he's lying naked on his back amidst tangled sheets, staring up at the ceiling as Bones wheezes into the pillow beside him. "All......that, huh?"  
  
"May have improvised a bit towards the end" Jim hedges, rolling onto his side and watching Bones smugly. "Are you complaining?"  
  
"God, no," Bones huffs. He gathers his arms beneath the pillow and peeks out at Jim with one affectionate eye. "It's just like you."  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment," Jim murmurs. He waits a second, then scoots closer, nuzzling against Bones' warm shoulder with a little sigh.  
  
He wonders if, somewhere amidst the stars, John is okay.  
  
"What was his name?" Bones' voice is slurred, his eyes half-shut as he gazes at Jim.  
  
Jim hesitates, glancing up. "John," he says after a while, when Bones' eyes are shut and there's a good chance he's already asleep. His lips stir lightly across Bones' skin, and he tastes salt on his tongue when he speaks.  
  
"His name's John."


End file.
